I'm at the counter at a Johnny Rockets in a food court when someone starts pounding on the surface. BANG - bang bang - BANG - bang bang - BANG...
I lean back enough to see a large woman beating on the table with a fist that clenches a spoon. A moment later, she starts kicking at the foot bar that runs the length of the counter - TOOM - toom toom - TOOM - toom toom...
She's got her head back and she's tossing her hair from side to side. She was drumming, or trying to drum, in time to the music on the jukebox. She never quite got it right, but she did summon a waitress over to turn the volume up. Now the music is competing with the rubbish Muzak the mall pipes in, and it's a losing battle on both sides. Not that this woman notices. She's pounding on the counter all the harder. Everyone at the counter was staring, wide-eyed, at this oblivious woman who's now shaking her head back and forth and hammering on both counter and foot bar as if trying to rip them loose. (I might have said something but I was about five fries away from leaving, so it didn't seem worth it.)
The weird thing was, not only was she out of time to the music, she couldn't even match her own rhythm. The foot bar seemed to be hustling to keep up with the spoon, and overtook it on occasion. She did, however, manage to match the resonant frequency of the counter. Ketchup bottles, napkin holders, and silverware started wandering around on their own. The waitress made a dive for a salt shaker that was about to jump for it. She's banging her head like a stoner at a Metallica concert, face red, eyes squeezed shut, blissful with the ignorance of the damage she might be causing.
It wouldn't have been so bad if the song was actually some kind of transcendant musical experience. What inspired this paroxysm of musical ecstasy?
"Cheeseburger in Paradise" by Jimmy Buffett.
Love, Who?
I lean back enough to see a large woman beating on the table with a fist that clenches a spoon. A moment later, she starts kicking at the foot bar that runs the length of the counter - TOOM - toom toom - TOOM - toom toom...
She's got her head back and she's tossing her hair from side to side. She was drumming, or trying to drum, in time to the music on the jukebox. She never quite got it right, but she did summon a waitress over to turn the volume up. Now the music is competing with the rubbish Muzak the mall pipes in, and it's a losing battle on both sides. Not that this woman notices. She's pounding on the counter all the harder. Everyone at the counter was staring, wide-eyed, at this oblivious woman who's now shaking her head back and forth and hammering on both counter and foot bar as if trying to rip them loose. (I might have said something but I was about five fries away from leaving, so it didn't seem worth it.)
The weird thing was, not only was she out of time to the music, she couldn't even match her own rhythm. The foot bar seemed to be hustling to keep up with the spoon, and overtook it on occasion. She did, however, manage to match the resonant frequency of the counter. Ketchup bottles, napkin holders, and silverware started wandering around on their own. The waitress made a dive for a salt shaker that was about to jump for it. She's banging her head like a stoner at a Metallica concert, face red, eyes squeezed shut, blissful with the ignorance of the damage she might be causing.
It wouldn't have been so bad if the song was actually some kind of transcendant musical experience. What inspired this paroxysm of musical ecstasy?
"Cheeseburger in Paradise" by Jimmy Buffett.
Love, Who?
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